Lost on the Descent: Giant Ledge and Panther Mountain
It was quite a hike yesterday: Bimal and I covered a total distance of 8.8 miles and 2,600 feet of elevation gain — about two extra miles and 500 additional feet of climbing beyond the official hike stats. We reached the Giant Ledge parking lot shortly after 9:30 a.m. and started walking at 9:45. However, we missed the actual trail entrance: a small footbridge across the parking lot. Instead, we continued up the steep Route 47 road, which eventually leads to the Slide Mountain trailhead about two miles away.
I had AllTrails running, but I wasn’t using full navigation in order to save phone battery. We realized our mistake much later — after 0.8+ miles of walking and 450 feet of elevation gain (Route 47 is steep indeed) — and turned back to the trailhead. The detour cost us more than 40 minutes. We finally found the footbridge that marks the true start of the Giant Ledge / Panther Mountain hike and began properly at 10:30 a.m. on the Phoenicia East Branch Trail.
Very soon, we could feel the richness of the Catskills wilderness: rocky trails, dense forests, and mostly dormant trees still waiting to green. We passed a few hikers along the way. The 180-degree views from Giant Ledge are spectacular, as is the sheer vertical drop below the ledge itself.
After snacks at Giant Ledge, we continued toward Panther Mountain. Giant Ledge is roughly the halfway point of the hike, though most of the elevation gain happens in the first half. The trail to Panther reminded me at times of our group hike to Thomas Cole after summitting Blackhead and Black Dome — higher elevation woods, gentler grades, and long stretches of quieter forest walking. The summit of Panther Mountain itself is off-trail and tucked in the woods. The Giant Ledge–Panther–Fox Hollow trail runs for more than 8 miles and keeps stretching onward well beyond Panther. We reached the point on the trail closest to the summit, went a bit farther, then stopped for lunch before beginning the descent.
During the ascent, I was carrying roughly a 20-pound pack, and it felt about right. After drinking a lot of water, I dumped around a liter to lighten the load for the return trip.
The descent was smooth, and we savored the views from Giant Ledge one last time. We saw more hikers on the way down than on the way up. Giant Ledge is among the most popular hikes in the Catskills. Many people come with no packs at all, and some even in jeans. That said, it’s still not peak season, so the trails retained the solitude that hikers seek in the mountains.
During the descent, we fell into the classic trap and missed an important turn. Here is how Google Gemini described it: The point where you missed the turn is a known trap on this descent. The Phoenicia East Branch Trail (yellow blazes) follows an old carriage road for several miles before it suddenly veers right (west) to drop down to the Giant Ledge parking area. If you miss that turn, you remain on the much wider and more intuitive Woodland Valley Carriage Road, which continues south.
So we nonchalantly continued south down the Slide Mountain–Woodland Valley Carriage Road. These carriage roads were originally built for logging and timber extraction, and later used during the Catskills hotel and tourism era. The wide road felt so natural that we never suspected we were on the wrong trail.
As it happened, we were seeing far more hikers in the afternoon than we had in the morning, which only reassured us that we were headed the right way.
Soon we ran into a group of five hikers: four younger adults and a middle-aged woman they affectionately called Grandma. Two seemed to be a young couple, the other two looked like teenagers, and they had a small dog with them.
The young woman asked if we were on the correct trail. She mentioned that she hadn’t seen the rocky sections they had passed during the ascent. I reassured her that we appeared to be on the right path, and we all continued southward.
A few minutes later, doubts crept into my own mind. I checked AllTrails and saw that we had left the main Phoenicia East Branch Trail some time ago.
We now had three options:
1. Continue down the carriage road to Route 47 and road-walk back to the trailhead (2+ miles total)
2. Retrace our steps to the missed junction and descend properly on the Phoenicia East Branch Trail
3. Bushwhack directly back to the trail, which appeared close by on the map
The morning mistake had already soured me on walking Route 47 a second time. Option 3 looked shortest. We chose the shortest-looking option.
Little did I know: the shortest path is not always the smartest path.
Bushwhacking brings its own uncertainties.
Get Srinivas Andra’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
At first, it seemed manageable. We moved through open woods, pushing aside the branches of dormant saplings so they wouldn’t snap back into our faces. For the first 5–10 minutes, progress was steady.
Then we reached a ditch.
It wasn’t ideal, but we climbed down and up the other side. Soon after, we encountered a second ditch — steeper this time, with a stream flowing north through it. There was no easy way around it, so down we went again.
Behind us, the group of five had started shouting back and forth. I think they were blaming the young man who had led them on the hike. They kept asking if we were on the right path.
AllTrails suggested we were generally moving in the right direction, but on the ground it was impossible to be certain. At one point, Bimal asked whether we were simply lost.
We were close enough to the official trail that I expected to hear voices or spot signs of it, but the forest gave us nothing.
The fallen leaves concealed mud beneath them. Some hikers slipped. In places, stepping on leaves meant sinking unexpectedly more than a foot into soft ground. I focused on moving forward, following the stream and crossing it where footing looked better.
Then finally — relief.
We spotted a wooden bridge over the stream, with hikers crossing it — part of the Phoenicia East Branch Trail.
I hurried to it and waved everyone over. Bimal waited behind for the others. A few minutes later, the whole group emerged and reached the bridge.
The young woman’s dog had apparently been terrified by the ditches. The young woman herself was in tears — I asked if she was hurt, but she said she was okay. Tempers were high and nerves were frayed.
Ironically, Grandma had been the calmest person during the whole ordeal. She kept gently asking me whether we were on the right path.
I couldn’t truly reassure anyone until we reached that bridge.
The young couple appeared to be on a date. The woman thanked me, then turned to her companion and declared this was her first hike — and also her last. She was furious.
I told her experiences like this are rare, and hiking is rewarding when we stay on marked trails.
Everyone offered a quick prayer of thanks once we were safely back.
From there, it was an easy walk to the trailhead. We exchanged a few pleasantries and parted ways.
In hindsight, we should have chosen Option 1 or Option 2.
Bushwhacking may be the shortest path — but it certainly was not the smartest one. It exposed all of us to more risk than necessary.
